


The (not so) Dark Mage

by LOTLOF



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Humor, Magic, Monsters, Multi, Undead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-26 03:16:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LOTLOF/pseuds/LOTLOF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yes, I will take a name that will inspire fear in all those who hear it. A name to terrify and fill common men with dread. Until I return to Alteroth my name shall be… Waldo Rabbit!" </p>
<p>Alice blinked and only just managed to not snicker. "Waldo Rabbit? Seriously?" </p>
<p>"Too scary?" </p>
<p>Alice tapped her chin and pretended to think about it. "Actually darling, I think it's perfect."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Quest

Chapter 1

The Shattered Lands held more than a thousand nations. Kingdoms, Duchies, Baronies, Republics, Oligarchies, Magocricies, Theocracies, Tribal Federations, Dictatorships, and lands with no law at all could be found. Each individual nation was independent and in a struggle with all the others. So called kings had no more authority beyond their borders than a baron or high priest did. There were alliances and understandings, but no ruler ever swore fealty to another. The human nations shared a common tongue, a number system, a calendar, and a coinage system; but there was no single law or authority. Wars raged as nations were born or swallowed up. It was a world filled with magic and monsters and blood.

One of these nations was called Alteroth and was located near the very heart of the Shattered Lands. It was among the largest and most powerful countries; for it was a land of Dark Mages and dark magics. Undead soldiers patrolled the borders and enforced the laws. The dead served and the living obeyed. Those who could use black magic held absolute power. 

Seven families ruled here. Though suspicious of each other, they were bound together by mutual need. The rest of the world hated and feared them, and would gladly have destroyed them if they could. The neighboring nations were much too divided to form a coalition strong enough. So long as the Seven Families stood united Alteroth was too powerful to attack.

For those who practiced the Dark Arts Alteroth was a sanctuary and a haven. Together or individually the Great Families sought influence and wealth in the wider world. They reveled in the fear and terror they inspired. They all treasured their reputations, and did what they could to enhance them, and appear even more terrifying. The Seven Families thrived on the dread others felt for them.

It was for this reason that the Council of Seven was meeting.

XXX

Within the council chamber, six men in blackest robes sat around a circular table eying one other suspiciously. There was no head of the Council of Seven, no one dared to try and assume authority over the others. Each member was jealous of his own standing and unwilling to allow any to stand even an inch higher. Each was the head on one of the Great Families and a master of the Dark Arts. They were allies against the wider world and rivals against each other. They were not friends and they did not trust. They worked together because of need and no other reason.

Enslaved elven maidens poured wine silent and submissive, eyes cast down and properly attentive. Outside the doors of the great chamber guards stood their posts. Along with eying each other their eyes flickered to the single empty seat.

“This is dangerous,” Lothas Blackwater muttered. “Not announcing a meeting to one of our own.”

“I sent a message,” a sickly man with yellow teeth said. “I suppose the slave was slow in delivering it. I’ll have the fool killed in apology.”

“That’s not going to fool anyone Dante.” Baldwin Blooddrinker said. He had forest green eyes and ears that were slightly pointed.

Dante Poisondagger smiled with his rotting teeth. “Oh I know that, but it’s enough to at least cover us. Mistakes do happen.”

“We need to finish discussing the matter before the last member arrives.” Gawreth Wormwood said. “It’ll be simpler if we have a decision ready.”

The others all nodded wearily.

“We should just kill him!” Darius Heartless shouted. “He’s a disgrace! An embarrassment! He has no place among us!”

“He is heir to one of the Great Families and you cannot deny he has skill with magic.” Xilos Soulbreaker said.

“You call what he does talent?” Heartless challenged.

“Well he can use magic,” Soulbreaker said defensively. “Some of his spells are quite effective.”

“Oh I’ve seen the things he can do with his magic! They’re weak and worthless! He will never make a fitting head of a great family!” Heartless shouted.

“Stop yelling,” Gawreth said wearily. “I swear Heartless, every time we have a meeting you feel the need to try and shout louder than last time.”

“I think we can all agree that we can’t simply kill him.” Dante said with a decayed smile. “At least not openly.”

“Can’t Walter be the heir?” Heartless demanded.

“Don’t be stupid, Walter is dead.” Gawreth told him.

Heartless glared at him. “He’s only mostly dead.”

“The dead cannot rule the living.” Baldwin reminded them dryly. “Heads of families must meet certain criteria. For instance, how exactly would Walter father an heir?”

Heartless shrugged. “He could stitch one together I suppose. He would still be more fitting than that miserable disgrace.”

“Who’s a miserable disgrace?” A cold voice said from the doorway.

The six men looked fearfully at the new arrival, the seventh member of the council, and the unquestioned most powerful necromancer in all Alteroth; Lilith Corpselover. Pale alabaster skin, long straight raven hair, with a full feminine figure that her tight fitting black robes showed off nicely. In her hands she gripped a wand of human bone and was looking murderously at her fellow council members. Though they were all powerful mages, they deeply respected her strength and ability. None of them wanted to make her an enemy.

“Just who is a disgrace?” Lilith repeated eying Heartless as if she wanted to choke the life from him.

“I think you know who.” Heartless said refusing to back down.

“Lilith, the time has come for us to address the situation.” Blooddrinker said with a calm friendly air. 

“The fact is your youngest cannot be your heir.” Soulbreaker said.

“Since when does the council decide who the heir of a Great Family is?” Lilith demanded. “That has always been the choice of the family head.”

“Lilith,” Baldwin said trying to sound pleasant. “Even you must admit he is not someone who could replace you, either as the head of the Corpselover family or as a member of this council.”

“Certainly he can! He has immense natural talent! He can do things even I can’t manage!” Lilith said vehemently.

The six men looked at each other uncomfortably. Lilith was a terrifying necromancer and killer, but she was also a doting mother with all of a parent’s usual blindnesses.

To try and force her to accept the truth of the situation Dante Poisondagger spoke an unforgivable insult. “Your son is a White Mage.”

Lilith snapped. Running up to him she grabbed the small man about the neck and began to shake him as a dog would a rat. Instantly the other five were on their feet pointing their wands at her. Despite having the advantage none of them dared cast a spell. Doing so would not only mean immediate deaths, it would spark a war between the houses.

“SAY THAT AGAIN YOU ROTTON MOUTHED DOVE!!” Lilith screamed into his face.

“Let’s just calm down, shall we?” Gawreth said as serenely as he could. He had his wand pointed at her and a killing spell on his lips. “I’m sure Poisondagger did not mean to insult you. Isn’t that right Dante?”

“That’s ri… right,” Dante managed to get out as he was being rattled. Being on the receiving end of Lilith’s fury was enough to make any man pale. “Please forgive me Lilith.”

“Fine,” she spat out and released her grip dropping him unceremoniously onto the floor. Though only slightly appeased she knew there were limits to what even she could get away with. “As a Corpselover I am not the forgiving sort, but I will try to forget those words were spoken.”

“Why don’t we all sit down and talk this out?” Baldwin suggested.

Nodding, Lilith took her usual seat; the others put away their wands and returned to theirs. Poisondagger looked paler than usual and avoided even glancing in Lilith’s direction. As soon as they were all seated Baldwin spoke again.

“Lilith, you know how important it is that we guard our reputation as ruthless and powerful Dark Mages. Fear is our shield. Were the other nations to see any sort of weakness they might try to attack us. I beg you; see this from our point of view.”

“I am willing to admit my son is a bit unusual for a Dark Mage, but he has the potential to be extraordinary. He will definitely prove to be a worthy successor.”

“Do you truly believe that Lilith?” Baldwin asked, careful to hide his discomfort.

“I do.”

“Well in that case,” Gawreth Wormwood said slowly. “Would you agree to a test of his abilities?”

Lilith narrowed her eyes at him. “What sort of test?”

XXX

In one of the chambers of the highest tower of Castle Corpselover a young man in black robes was down on his knees on the stone floor. At his side were several opened books as well as scrolls with hand drawn sketches. In his hand was a piece of chalk. On the stone floor he had drawn a summoning circle, with a myriad of arcane symbols and runes surrounding it.

“This time it will work,” he muttered to himself. “I know it will work.” He had checked the inscription time and again and was certain it was correct. He was going over the chalked symbols he’d written with exquisite care. He was determined that this time there would be no mistakes.

As he was bent over studying the runes and symbols the door to the room slowly and silently opened. A figure with tattered and filthy black robes slipped inside. From a distance it might have passed for human, up close it never would. The skin was a lifeless shade of grey. The eyes were a sickly yellow and the finger tips ended in razor sharp bony talons. The lips were bloated and an inky blue, when they pulled back in a ravenous grin they revealed sharp pointed teeth. The creature stretched out its arms and readied to tear apart its unsuspecting victim.

Still bent over and studying his handiwork the teenage boy waved a single hand. “Repulso.”

The monster felt magical energies take hold and slam him into the far wall. “Aaarrrrrrrgh!” The creature screamed in frustration, not actual pain.

“Hello brother,” the boy said without ever bothering to look up.

The monster struggled against the magical energies that were holding it pinned to the far wall. It knew it was hopeless but still fought to get free.

“I don’t mind you wanting to eat me, but could you please wait until I’m done?”

The monster stopped struggling and bore its teeth in a hateful snarl. “I want to kill you! I want to tear out your throat! I want to gnaw on your bones! I want to feast on your still beating heart while you watch!”

“Yes, I know, but could you at least wait until dinner time? Is that too much to ask Walter?” 

“How did you know I was here?” Walter Corpselover demanded. “You couldn’t have heard me; I was as silent as the grave. You didn’t have any wards set up, I checked.”

Sighing the boy slowly got up to his feet and faced his brother. His face was boyish and looked young even for a fifteen year old. He had small delicate hands and a thin undersized frame. His short cropped blond hair was the color of spun gold and his eyes were of an azure blue. He had a kind face. “You’re a zombie Walter. No matter how well preserved your body is, it still stinks of rot; there’s no way I wouldn’t smell you from twenty yards away. Besides…” he waved a single hand.

Hidden runes on the cell floor suddenly revealed themselves.

“Even if I had done nothing, you’d have been held in place as soon as you took one more step.”

Walter’s jaundiced eyes widened as he saw all the trap spells that had been set for him. “How… how did I not notice?” Ordinary humans could not sense hidden runes and spell traps, but mages and certain monsters could.

The undead could not sense or feel magic.

Waldo Corpselover sighed and looked at his brother with sympathy. In this family death was not the ultimate tragedy; weakness was. Walter had been three years older and the designated heir. He had been powerful, arrogant, and ruthless; in other words, a typical member of an elite family. A glorious future had stretched out before him. Everyone assumed that eventually he would replace mother and take over her position as head of the family.

Then one day grandfather ate him.

Not all of him, just his heart.

Mother had done what she could, raising him as a zombie. She had done an incredible job. He retained most of his memories and could still feel and think. Walter could still use some minor spells, with the exception of liches that was considered impossible for the undead. He was an exceptional zombie, but still only a fraction of what he’d once been. In life Walter had always treated his younger brother with contempt. In death he openly hated him. Not simply because he was still alive, but because everything Walter had wanted and treasured had been handed over to his worthless younger brother. Walter could no longer smell a flower or feel a warm wind on his face, but he could still feel hatred. That he could feel very keenly.

“Is that pity I see in your eyes little brother? Are you pitying me? Hah! What a joke!”

“It’s not pity,” Waldo said quietly. “You know I never wanted anything to happen to you. I never wanted to be heir.”

“Liar,” Walter cursed. “Don’t pretend you didn’t want it. The joke is that even like this I am still a better Dark Mage than you will ever be.” 

Still pinned to the wall Walter glanced at the summoning circle Waldo had been working on. Walter could no longer perform the deeper magics, but still had his knowledge.

“You’re trying to summon a homunculus this time? I summoned one when I was just nine. Don’t you feel pathetic that you can’t even manage that when you’re sixteen and the heir?”

“Big talk from a zombie who can’t even move right now.”

The lips peeled back to reveal all those sharp pointed teeth. “If you really are the next head of the family I weep for Corpselover.”

“Can zombies weep?” Waldo’s right hand sliced the air in front of him. “Nunc.”

The spell ended and Walter was once more free.

“If you’ll excuse me, I still have some work to do.” Waldo went back to his summoning circle and again knelt down to check on his symbols.

“You’re turning your back on me?” Walter growled.

“Why not? We both know you can’t touch me.”

Waldo did not have to turn around to know that would make his brother furious. Hate and rage were the only things his brother seemed to feel anymore.

“I really am going to kill you.”

“Yes, I know, but wait until after dinner. Close the door on the way out.”

Still not bothering to look Waldo heard the footsteps and the door slamming shut. The smell of rotting meat was noticeably less.

XXX

I suppose this is a strange family. Waldo thought as he continued to check his work. In this castle there were undead servants and slaves; the only people who were ‘free’ were the members of the Corpselover family. He’d read plenty of books about the people who lived in other countries. Folk who in their whole lives never saw the walking dead and would be terrified just by a single unarmed skeleton shuffling towards them. For Waldo dark magics and the undead were the stuff of ordinary life.

He had been born into this world and to his eyes it was all normal. He loved Alteroth with its imposing mountains and slow flowing rivers of magma. He loved the volcanoes that rumbled and sent ash up into the perpetually grey sky. He’d witnessed several eruptions and thought them beautiful beyond words. He loved the city of Alter with its clean and orderly streets. The squat houses packed in together and the commoners who would bow to you and lower their eyes. It was a beautiful world of order and control where everyone knew their place and accepted it from Council member down to slave.

In this world power was everything.

From the time he was a child he’d been taught not to fear death; only weakness. Being weak was the only unforgivable sin. Waldo wanted to be strong. Not really for himself, but for his family and for Alteroth. He did not want to fail them or bring them shame. For the sake of his family and his country he wanted to be a great Dark Mage.

Being an embarrassment was his greatest fear, not dying. His mother had had a total of seven children, of which he was the youngest and only one still currently alive. Four were dead and two (including Walter) were mostly dead. They had all died violent deaths, none of them living to reach nineteen. All had been born with the gift of summoning mana and an ability to use magic.

Their individual talents had differed. Roland (who Waldo did not remember) had specialized in fire magic. Gwen had taken after mom and been a natural at necromancy. Walter had always had a gift at summoning and controlling monsters. All of them had been talented with great potential. All of them had been a credit to House and nation.

Waldo thought about what he himself was best at and let out a frustrated grunt.

Healing and protection magic. That was what he was best at. He had absolutely no talent at necromancy. He couldn’t even reanimate a mouse. Whenever he attempted any sort of destructive spell it always went horribly wrong… and not even in the good sort of horribly wrong. For instance, when he tried to summon monsters…

He let out another frustrated sigh.

The ability to use magic was in itself a rare trait in humans. When it manifested, it differed from person to person, both in depth and in direction. Some would never have the strength to do much more than levitate a book or light a candle. Others could summon dragons or tear open the earth. The amount of mana a person could draw was an inborn ability. You could learn spells and train to draw the energy more easily; but the limit was in your blood.

There were written spells and incantations, rules of magic, runes, and wards; things that a magic user could learn and study. Spellbooks, wands, rods, magical rings, scrolls, and other items made casting certain spells easier. Yet magic was much more of an art than a science. In theory every magic user should have been capable of casting any spell, so long as it did not require too much mana. In practice it was nothing like that. The sorts of spells a wizard could work were a reflection of his soul.

Nodding Waldo stood. The summoning circle was perfect. He would bring forth a homunculus and bind it to his will. Being fifteen it was long past time to have his own familiar. He began performing the required hand gestures and spoke the incantation. “Ithkaros venti setarros abro homoculi tenos arrilo venti sem apparos!”

The circle and the symbols he had so carefully chalked suddenly blazed with light. He felt the mana flow out of him and into the circle.

It’s going to work this time! I know it! Waldo thought.

The interior of the circle vanished and space and time were momentarily shattered. 

“Bring me my servant!” Waldo shouted into the void.

Bending to his will the spell brought forth a living creature.

“Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.”

There within the summoning circle was a confused blue bird.

“Oh not again!”

XXX

Step… step… step…

Six skeletons in rusted chainmail walked along the hall. With each step the scabbards attached to their bony hips clicked. These were just a handful of the guards who protected Castle Corpselover. They would patrol these corridors again and again and again without fail until their bodies broke down. The guards of this castle never tired, never complained, and would never betray their mistress. If a stranger appeared before them they would draw their swords and fight to the end. How could anyone hope for better than that?

Waldo passed them without a second thought. They were as much a part of his home as the paintings on the wall or the furniture. They shuffled past with no change.

Waldo was thinking about his most recent failure. The summoning circle had been perfect and so had the enchantment. He understood that the more difficult the spell the easier it was to make a mistake. Something as basic as say lighting a candle could be done with nothing more than a thought. More difficult tasks might require a word or two or a hand gesture. Complex spells needed a specific incantation or the use of an item like a wand or magical ring. Summoning a creature without a contract was a high end spell and demanded an incantation, hand gestures, and a summoning circle with a proper containment for the particular creature.

I did everything right, Waldo thought. I did! Why won’t it work?

In a sense the summoning had worked… sort of, but a blue bird was not a homunculus. The only positive he could take from his recent effort was that he could summon. He had absolutely no ability with necromancy at all. For a Corpselover that was worse than embarrassing, it was downright humiliating. His family was known for its ability with raising and using the dead. His mother was acknowledged the greatest necromancer in all Alteroth. Being unable to use it at all made Waldo feel unworthy. He wanted so much to make mother and the family proud of him. How could he ever do it when he was such a complete failure at the family specialty?

As he neared a corner in the hallway he waved his hand. “Repulso.”

Even unseen Walter was thrown from his hiding spot and sent flying down a side corridor. His brother cried out in frustration as Waldo kept going down the main corridor.

That at least I can do, Waldo thought without any pride. Healing spells, wards, spell traps, and protective wards all came to him easily. That was his gift. That sort of magic did have its place and its uses, but in Alteroth that place was quite low. The ability to destroy or to control was what mattered and what others respected. A wizard that could not kill or bend others to his will would never be appreciated here.

Walter came to his feet and shouted hatefully. “Why do you always just let me go? Why don’t you destroy me?! Am I so pathetic to you?”

“It would make mother sad.” Waldo said and kept going.

He heard Walter curse him before leaving by the side hallway. Waldo knew his brother really would kill him if he ever got the chance. Mother would be upset, but she wouldn’t punish Walter if it happened. The children were protected until they knew enough to put on the robes and take their places as mages. From that point on you were expected to protect yourself. The world was hard and you had to be strong enough to not only face it but to take what you wanted from it. There was no place in the family for the weak.

Waldo wondered if that was what he was.

The truth was he had no wish to kill anyone, not even Walter. He had no desire to control others or acquire power. All he wanted was to make mom proud of him. He wanted to be a powerful Dark Mage and a proper Corpselover because that was what would make her proud.

He had talent with magic and the ability to draw on quite a lot of mana. What he didn’t have was the same mindset everyone else had. Why did he have a problem with killing when he didn’t have one with dying or with death in general? Why didn’t the idea of having power over others excite him? He would acquire power because it was expected not because he wanted to.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” He muttered under his breath.

XXX

Castle Corpselover had nine towers and five dungeons. The main castle itself had five floors each with dozens of rooms and a different lay out. The hallways twisted and turned with various side corridors that came to abrupt ends or could go in a circle. Some of the stairways only went up or down one floor and the walls were riddled with secret passageways and hidden rooms. It was not hard at all to go from one end of the castle to the other without ever stepping into the main hallway, if you knew what you were about.

On the fifth floor he took the second corridor on the left off the main hall. Halfway down it there was another side corridor. This one curved around like a fishhook until it ended in a small alcove. Hanging on the wall was a full length mirror six feet high with brass trim that was polished so that it shined like gold.

The mirror itself was made of glass and its surface was perfectly smooth and clear. Standing before it Waldo could not see himself or the corridor around him. There was no reflection; there was only a perfect grey emptiness there.

“Sister, will you come and talk to me?”

He waited. She usually came when he asked, but not always.

He waited for a long time while nothing happened. He was about to go when he saw some of the mirror’s grey melt away. Colors momentarily swirled like mixed paint in a bucket. Waldo waited patiently for his sister to take form.

It took a few minutes, but finally she was standing there on the other side of the mirror; his sister Gwen. She had been sixteen when she died. It had been on her First Quest, and it had happened outside the borders of Alteroth so there had been no way to recover her body. Mother had instead managed to bind her soul into this mirror.

Waldo had been only twelve when Gwen died, still just a child under mother’s protection. Gwen had always been kind to him. Unlike Walter, and most of his other siblings, she had never tried to bully or threaten him. He didn’t know if that would have changed once he was older; but he hoped not. She had taken after mother both in looks and in talent. Gwen had been a promising necromancer and a candidate to be heir. The kindness she had shown to him had not affected her ability to be a Dark Mage. 

She appeared before him dressed in black robes that highlighted her attractive figure. She had long straight black hair, auburn eyes, and the same delicate features as mother. Her skin though was a bleached white and her throat was slashed from ear to ear, the cut slowly bled all the while she stood there.

“You look sad little brother,” Gwen said with a sympathetic glance. “Did Walter try and eat you again?” The words came in a rasp, her wound quivering with each syllable.

“Yes he did, but that was no big deal.”

Gwen’s pale lips twitched into an amused grin. “I would have destroyed him a long time ago. You are truly merciful little brother.”

“Please don’t insult me.”

“I am only being truthful,” Gwen croaked.

In Alteroth and in the Corpselover family mercy was not a virtue, it was a weakness. Enemies weren’t supposed to be forgiven; they were supposed to be annihilated.

“I just don’t hate him,” Waldo confessed. “I know I should. The Dark Powers know he was never nice to me even when he was alive, but I just feel sorry for him now. He was the heir and a powerful Dark Mage. Now what is he? I can understand why he hates me.”

“You have a kind heart.”

“If you’re going to keep insulting me I’m leaving.”

Gwen gave a slow rasping laugh. “I truly love you little brother, even though you are strange.”

Waldo sighed. “I love you too sister.”

In this world love was also seen as a weakness, but it was at least an accepted weakness. It was only natural for human beings to feel love, even if they were necromancers. In Alteroth parents still loved their children, children loved their parents, husbands and wives (sometimes) loved each other, and people could love their friends and companions. Love alone though was never an excuse for being soft or indulgent. Seeking power had to come before all else.

“If Walter is not the cause, what has you so glum little brother?”

“It’s the usual I suppose,” Waldo admitted. “I tried to summon a homunculus and wound up with a bird instead.”

“What did you do with it?” Gwen asked curiously.

“I sent it back.”

Gwen rasped out a laugh. “Anyone else would have killed it you know.”

“I know,” Waldo said miserably. “I just don’t like killing. There’s something terribly wrong with me isn’t there?”

“Yes,” Gwen said in her mangled voice. “But it’s all right; I like you as you are little brother. You have your own strengths and your own way. Don’t worry so much. In the end you will be the head of the family.”

Waldo felt his stomach turn. She had told him that before, and made him promise not to tell anyone. Those who were spirits could look into both the past and future. When Gwen made a prediction it always happened.

“There’s no way that someone like me could ever be head of the family.” Waldo muttered. “Even if it can’t be Walter there are other branches to the family line. Mother will find someone else, it would never be me.”

Gwen smiled at him. Her eyes sparkled as if seeing something for the first time. She spoke in a slow melodic tone as if reciting the words to a poem.

“When mother, sister, and brother are gone all the branches shall kneel down before you. You will bring change, terrible change, and nothing will be as it was. To some you will bring joy and to others ruin. Many shall know your name, and it shall be both blessing and curse.”

He felt a cold shiver go down his spine. “Is… is that a prophesy sister?”

“You have your own strengths little brother,” Gwen answered ignoring the question. “You should remember that there is usually more than one path to get to wherever it is you want to go. Find your own road and don’t worry about how others would make the journey.”

“Gwen, what you said before, was that a prophesy?”

His sister was grinning at him. “Little brother, did you know that when a girl falls in love with someone she will do anything for him?” She chuckled. "They can be very possessive sometimes, but try to endure it; it’s a sign of love."

“Huh? What are you talking about?” He had no interest at all in girls. His life was difficult enough as it was.

Seeing his obvious confusions Gwen rasped out another laugh as her form began to blur and grow indistinct. “Don’t be late to dinner little brother, mother has important news for you.”

“News? What news? And what did you mean before?”

“You’ll see.” She winked and said nothing more and was soon gone completely from sight. The mirror was once again a formless grey nothing.

“That’s just great!” Waldo complained out loud. “I have a zombie brother who just wants to kill me and a ghost sister who just likes to confuse me. I don’t know which of you is more annoying!”

No reply came from the mirror.

Sighing in frustration Waldo left the alcove.

XXX

Having had two run ins already, Walter had decided not to show up for dinner. Waldo did not mind. Watching a zombie rip apart a pig carcass had never done anything for his appetite. He wondered if his brother would take out his frustration on one of the slaves.

There was a long ornate dining table with forty seats down in the grand hall. This was where the family always took its meals. On occasion members of the extended family or members of one of the other Great Families would be invited. It didn’t happen often. Waldo had grown up in relative isolation. He’d known his mother and siblings, his teachers, and the slaves. Outsiders were not welcome. There were people the family did business with and others they ruled over. There were no friends. For the Corpselover family the people of the world were divided into three categories; those with less power, those with similar power, and those with greater power. Those with less power were treated as slaves or servants. Those with similar power were treated with wary respect and never trusted. Those with greater power were feared and obeyed. (The family did not currently acknowledge anyone to be in this third class.)

To Waldo friendship was an alien concept. He understood liking certain people better than others, as with Gwen and Walter. He preferred certain slaves and treated them a bit better. Within the family there was a strict hierarchy, and how you were treated depended on just where you ranked within it. Some family members could be more gentle (Gwen) some more harsh (Walter) but it was always understood who was more important and who was less.

For almost his entire life Waldo had been at the very bottom. He had been the youngest, and as a child had had no power. When he was thirteen he was allowed to wear the black robes, but was still the weakest. At each meal mother sat at the head of the table and the children sat in order of who was strongest. The stronger you were the closer you sat to mother, with the one sitting to her right being the heir. 

The order was not set, and he could remember it changing many times. His older brothers and sisters competed and fought with each other to prove themselves. Mother would reward or punish them by changing their seat at the table. It was not love or favoritism that decided the order; it was just a reflection of who was the strongest.

Waldo was always the one seated furthest away and he was always seated on the left side of the table. He was never really angry about that. He accepted that he was the weakest, and it was enough that there was a place for him. Growing up all that he wanted was to be a part of his family.

Then one by one his family members began to die.

Dark Mages were expected to go out into the world and take. The strong took from the weak; that was the way things worked. Every member of the family was expected to add to its wealth and fearsome reputation. A Dark Mage’s worth was reflected in the amount of gold and slaves you could acquire, and by how many enemies you could kill. These were the true measures of a Dark Mage’s power, and each of his brothers and sisters were determined to prove themselves the strongest. That meant facing constant danger, and the usual consequences.

There were never any funerals.

There were no prolonged mourning periods. Mother would be sad but she would never say much. Usually she just made a single announcement to the family. ‘Karl is dead.’ If there was a body it would be burned in the courtyard. The family would bear witness, but there would be no prayers, no mourning. And that was the end of it. There would be one less place at the dinner table; one less competitor for the title of heir. No one would ask how they died or want to remember them. Bit by bit they were simply forgotten.

There were the living and the dead and the mostly dead, and going from one to the other was just accepted. If you were strong enough you would survive no matter the dangers. If you were not it didn’t matter what became of you.

As a child Waldo had moved up the table, as one brother or sister after another disappeared. By the time he put on the robes there were only Walter was left ahead of him. Walter and he were suddenly seated next to mother, with him on her left. When Walter died the two of them switched places and Waldo found himself on mother’s right; in the place reserved for the heir.

“The dead cannot rule the living,” his mother had said after raising Walter. “The heir must provide children and must be able to make contracts and work the greater magics. You are heir now Waldo.”

That was how he had come to be heir. He hadn’t done anything to earn it; he was just the last one standing.

As he approached his place mother silently watched him. She looked tired, she’d had her robes on when she had suddenly left but wasn’t wearing them anymore. She had a comfortable loose fitting brown shift on and some slippers. Though she was at home, Waldo noted her wand was still tucked into a large pocket. 

His mother’s long black hair was tangled and messy. The occasional strands of grey were getting more numerous and noticeable, as were the lines radiating from the corner of her eyes. His mother was still a beautiful woman and more powerful than she had ever been, but there was no denying that she was getting older. (Not that Waldo would ever say so out loud. He at least wanted to try and live as long as he could.) 

“Did everything go well mother?” Waldo asked as he took his seat.

“No it did not, but we’ll discuss that after dinner.”

Waldo felt a sudden nervousness. Growing up in this family he’d learned to be wary of any change in routine. His mother had never discussed meetings with the Council with him before. 

“Did something special happen at the meeting?” Waldo asked warily.

Lilith stopped in mid bite, turning to face her son with a look that spoke a simple reminder, "I dislike repeating myself. Must I?"

"No, Mother. Please, forgive me." He apologized quietly.

She nodded and then glanced to her left at the empty seat. Zombies didn’t have very good table manners and preferred to devour their food raw, and preferably still alive. When Walter joined them he usually just had half of a pig carcass placed on a large silver tray. “Your brother did not want to dine with us today. Did anything happen between you two?”

Waldo shrugged. “Nothing unusual, he just tried to attack me twice.”

His mother nodded slightly, that was rather routine. “Why haven’t you destroyed him yet?” She didn’t ask why Waldo had not killed him. Walter had been killed a long time ago.

Waldo felt ice creep up his spine. “Do you want me too?” 

“No, but this has nothing to do with me. He has tried to kill you many times so he is your enemy.”

Never spare an enemy. Never show mercy. Those were rules that had been drilled into him since childhood. He hesitated and answered carefully, his mother had regularly tested his other siblings. She had never really tested him before but it was certainly possible. “He is no real threat to me, and… and I know you would not be happy if I destroyed him.”

A slight grin touched her lips, but it only made her appear sadder. “You have always been a thoughtful child.”

Just what does that mean? Waldo wondered.

She gestured to one of the waiting slaves and trays of food were brought out of the kitchen. “Let’s just have a nice meal together.”

“Yes mother.”

The slaves brought out a small feast for just the two of them. They both picked at their food in near silence. Freshly baked bread, roast pork, beef, chicken and other delicacies went untouched and Waldo guessed the slaves would get to enjoy them.

Something very strange was going on.

Everything had been normal this morning before she had set out for the council meeting. It did not take a genius to see that something had happened there. His mother ran the family affairs completely on her own. Whatever occurred must have been of great importance if she felt the need to discuss it with him.

His mother said barely a word until the meal was finished. Once the dishes had been cleared away, and the slaves had departed, she told him directly just what was going on.

“It’s time Waldo. You will be leaving on your First Quest tomorrow.” 

Waldo blinked. “Oh.”

His mother lifted a single eyebrow and looked at him slightly amused. “Is that all you have to say? ‘Oh?’”

“Well, I am sixteen, and it’s not like I didn’t know this day was coming. I… I would have liked a little more warning I suppose.”

“This is how it has always been done. You have been preparing for this since the day of your birth. You have known this day was coming. You should not need any more time to prepare.”

“You’re right mother, of course I am ready.” Inside Waldo was anything but sure of that. “I will come back with servants and piles of treasure. I will definitely make you proud.”

“Servants and piles of treasure,” his mother repeated quietly. “Will you also bring back the heads of the enemies you have killed?”

“I… I will try to.” Waldo answered hesitantly. “I will do my best.”

“Is that what you’ll say when you’re facing a charging knight or a hill giant?” His mother slowly shook her head. “This will be your first time facing real danger. Oh I know Walter has tried to kill you, and that some of the others might have if you had put the robes on sooner. But those were all threats you were familiar with, ones you knew to watch for. When you leave this castle and then leave Alteroth you will be alone and in a hostile land surrounded by enemies. This is the rite of passage every Dark Mage of a ruling house must endure. You must prove you are worthy, not just by surviving, but by shedding blood and returning home with treasure. Do you expect to come back empty handed and just say, ‘I did my best?’”

Waldo’s face reddened with shame at the veiled accusation. In certain families that was permissible, but not in this one. “I’m not a coward mother. I know there is no place for cowards or weaklings.”

“My son if I’d ever thought you a coward or weak I would have killed you myself. I know your worth. That is not what concerns me.”

“Then what is it?” He was pleased to hear his mother say those words, but there was still more going on here.

“You don’t remember your brother Roland do you?”

Waldo shook his head.

“Well I’m not surprised; you were only three at the time. He was my first born, his father was Martin Wormwood. Martin was very skilled at fire magics. He would definitely have become the head of his family if the Poisondaggers hadn’t murdered him.”

Lilith Corpselover had never married. Had she, her husband would have become the family head. Instead she had enjoyed a long series of lovers; each of her seven children had had a different father. The men came and went, and none of them were allowed to have any part of her children’s lives. Among the Great Families there was no stigma in being born out of wedlock, so long as there was one parent with elite blood and the child had the ability to use magic.

“Roland was just like his father; a powerful and ruthless fire user. I taught him everything I knew and he never disappointed me. When he was just fourteen, I took him with me on a trip to the Barren Mounts, I wanted some new goblins and I thought it would be good experience for him. Would you believe we ran into a giant? Twenty feet tall at the very least, and a tree for a club in his hands. Roland was closer to him than I was and I called for him to get clear so I could deal with him. But he just lifted his wand, and calmly as if it were just practice, poured enough fire on that stupid giant to roast him in less than a minute. I was fifty yards away and I felt as though I were starting to bake.” She sighed wistfully. “We ate his flesh for the rest of our trip.”

“He killed a great monster at fourteen?” Waldo was impressed. Killing a Great Monster was quite a feat for anyone who was not a master. “Why did I never hear about that before?”

Lilith shrugged. “Because he is dead, so what does it matter now? The point is he was everything I could hope for in an heir. When he set off on his First Quest I was certain he would come home with an army of slaves, piles of gold, and the heads of at least a dozen knights. I really was sure he would be fine.”

Her eyes drifted, no doubt recalling his long forgotten brother.

“He died,” his mother said simply. “He went to the Kingdom of Lothas and never came back. A knight defeated him and left his head on a pike. As strong as he was he ended up as rotting flesh somewhere far from home.”

“I’ve always known the First Quest is dangerous mother.”

“Three of my children have died on their First Quests,” his mother said. “All of them were as well prepared as I could make them, and all of them had learned how to kill by the time they set out. Yet they still died. Do you truly understand? No one cares about doing your best, the point is to survive. That means doing what you need to, not what you want to.”

“I know that mother. It’s not like I fail on purpose.” He answered quietly. Her words shamed him.

“My son,” his mother said patiently. “I don’t believe you are a failure or weak. You simply have different strengths. I have tried to bring you along, slowly, in the hopes that your special talents would develop on their own. I had been planning to put off your First Quest for a while.”

“How long were you planning to wait mother? I’m fifteen; everyone usually goes between fifteen and seventeen.”

“I was hoping to put it off until you were thirty.” 

Waldo stared at her with his mouth hanging open.

“Or until you managed to kill someone,” his mother added pointedly. “Whichever came first.”

“So the fact you’re sending me now is a sign you believe I’m ready?”

“No,” his mother said. “The council has forced my hand.”

“Wait, my going on the quest now was a decision made by the council?”

His mother nodded unhappily. “Not only are you going on your First Quest but there are set conditions you will have to meet before you can return.”

“Conditions?”

XXX

 

Lilith narrowed her eyes at him. “What sort of test?”

“Your son is sixteen is he not?” Gawreth asked.

“You know he is,” Lilith answered suspiciously.

“Then isn’t it time he went on his First Quest?” Gawreth said in a reasonable tone.

“If he really is worthy of being your heir then let him prove it.” Baldwin said.

“I will be the one who decides when he should go.” Lilith told them. “It is always the family that decides.”

“Not always.” Gawreth remained placid. “There have been other occasions when the council insisted someone take their First Quest early. There is precedent for it.”

“If your son is strong enough to replace you then he should be strong enough for this.” Baldwin said.

“You cannot keep him hidden inside your castle forever.” Xilos Soulbreaker said.

“If he can succeed that would certainly convince us and this whole matter would be closed.” Darius Heartless said.

“You have to admit that it’s only reasonable.” Lothas Blackwater said.

Lilith’s eyes went to each of them in turn. Only Poisondagger had not spoken in favor of sending her son out, and from his previous comment it was obvious where he stood. They have already decided, Lilith realized with sickening certainty. While she would not hesitate to take on any of the other Houses, even she did not have the strength to fight all six if they were united.

“So, you intend to force me into this?” Lilith asked.

“Why do you even need to be forced?” Xilos snarled. “You sent your other children out when the time came.”

“I sent them when I felt each was ready.” Lilith answered coldly. “He is my only living child now. Do you blame me for being cautious with him?”

“From our perspective it looks more like you are acting out of love.” Darius said.

“I do love my son.” Lilith admitted. “However I would never try to protect him just out of love. I have good reason to be patient with him. He is my only remaining heir.”

“He is your only remaining child “Gawreth clarified. “If the tree dies you take a healthy branch and plant it. You have cousins and other relatives. Just how many branch families are there in Corpselover?”

“Forty seven,” Lilith admitted. In the extended family there were a dozen masters, and probably at least that many with the potential

“All of them better,” Dante muttered.

Lilith sent him a sharp look and he seemed to shrink into his chair.

“Don’t blame us if your child is weak.” Xilos said.

“My son is unusual I admit, but he is not weak.” Lilith said. “Even the strong do not always survive the First Quest.”

“Then we must make absolutely certain he is strong.” Baldwin said. “If you are to choose him over the branch members of your family it needs to be obvious he really is the best choice.”

Lilith had an unpleasant suspicion of what Baldwin was referring to.

Gawreth spoke confirming her misgivings. “We require he meet certain conditions before he will be permitted to return home.”

“That is not how the quest works!” Lilith said sharply. “Each individual decides when they have done enough. The only absolute requirement is that they leave Alteroth and visit a foreign land.”

“Which means he might cower in some cave just over the border for a few days and then run home!” Xilos said.

Darius nodded “It’s happened before. It’s disgraceful but it has been done.” 

“My son would never do something so cowardly!” She sent a cold look in Dante’s direction. “He’s not a Poisondagger after all.”

“What does that mean?” Poisondagger asked even as he squirmed.

“Your son Daryl spent what, three days in Galsia before running back with his tail between his legs? What about your son Pyrus? He killed a couple families out in the Barrens and that was all. I never heard any complaints about his worth."

Dante fumed, but no one spoke up in his family’s defense. 

“We are not all Poisondaggers.” Gawreth said pointedly. “I lost Cersei, my daughter from my third wife just a month ago.”

“My son Kiska was burned alive at the stake in Dregal.” Baldwin said.

Darius held out his hands and began ticking names off on his fingers. “Aban, Astera, Casper, Daria, Ewa, Faraz, Jasmin, Melchor, Razin Shayan.” All ten fingers were up. “I can still continue. We have all lost children on the First Quest.”

“Except for Dante.” Xilos pointed out.

“Yes, except for him.” Darius agreed.

Poisondagger seethed but could not deny it.

“We have all made sacrifices to the First Quest,” Baldwin told her. “You cannot pretend you are the only one. It is a cruel custom, but a necessary. It is the only way to ensure that every member of a ruling family is worthy.”

“Unless you’re a Poisondagger of course.” Lilith sneered.

“At least all of mine have killed! Isn’t it true yours never has?” Dante said accusingly. “Not even a slave?”

“Killing is easy.” Lilith gripped her wand with a single hand. “Shall I demonstrate?”

The others placed hands on their wands as well.

“There is no need for that.” Gawreth said. “We are all members of the Council of Seven.”

“So what?” Lilith spat. “We’d all kill each other if we could.”

“Very true,” Poisondagger muttered. 

“We don’t kill each other openly.” Baldwin said.

Garweth nodded. “That would lead to civil war and our ruin.”

“No,” Lilith said bitterly. “Instead we send each other out on impossible quests and let someone else do it.”

“If your son is strong enough he will survive.” Gawreth said. “If not then he is of no use to you.”

“Just what are the conditions you intend to place on him?” Lilith asked.

Gawreth told her.

“I see,” Lilith said. “Do you even still pretend this is anything but a death sentence? Only someone with the potential to be a Grand Master would have any hope at all!”

“I am sorry Lilith.” Gawreth said. “However we have all agreed and will not change our minds. I know this is drastic, but you have forced us to act.”

He wasn’t sorry. Lilith knew those were just meaningless words to make this just the tiniest bit more bearable. This was an execution, nothing else. They wanted her son gone and this was their way of going about it.

“If the six of you are determined then I suppose I have no choice.”

Her son was doomed.

XXX

“Yes my son,” Lilith said. “The council set three conditions you will have to fulfill before you will be allowed to return home.”

Waldo could feel the chill creeping further up his spine. “I’ve never heard of that before.”

“It’s rare, but not unheard of son.”

“All right mother so what are the conditions?”

Lilith had to struggle to keep the fury out of her voice. She wanted to at least give her son hope that it was possible. “You must make a contract with at least three monsters and bind them to your service. You must defeat at least one knight in battle.” She struggled to get out the last, most impossible requirement. “You must acquire a dragon’s egg or a dragon and return with it.”

Waldo stared at her hoping she would suddenly laugh at him and tell him this was all some huge joke. Her somber manner convinced him this was no joke.

“Bind three monsters, defeat a knight in battle, and bring back a dragon’s egg or a dragon? Is that all? Why don’t I slay an army or capture a castle while I’m at it?” 

“Careful son, they might add those.”

Waldo stopped and considered the situation.

Making a contract with just one monster was extremely dangerous and quite a feat. Getting three would be an even greater challenge.

Knights and white wizards were the deadliest threats most Dark Mages were likely to face on a First Quest. Only the strongest candidates, or the most desperate, would deliberately seek out a knight.

Dragons were far and away the rarest and most powerful of the Great Monsters. Even his mother, an experienced grand master, would never try and face one alone. That was work for an entire army. And unless you had some sure way to get and keep the mother far away, stealing a dragon egg was nearly as dangerous.

“Why does the council want me dead?” Waldo asked.

Lilith smiled. Her son had an odd way of looking at things, but he was no fool.

“They are afraid you are too weak to replace me as both head of the family and as a member on the council.” If he had the courage to ask her directly she would at least be truthful with him.

“Well I can’t say I’m surprised,” Waldo admitted. “Do you agree with them mother?”

“No. Never.”

“Even though I have never managed to kill anyone?”

“Killing is the easiest thing in the world my son. All it takes is not caring about your victim. You care too much, you feel too much. It’s only ever hard when you let yourself care.” She knew how true that was.

“I’m sorry; I can’t seem to help it.”

His mother looked at him wistfully. “You remind me of your father.” She said forlornly.

Waldo had never known who his father was. Given how different his physical features were (blonde hair and blue eyes) he had always wondered. None of his mother’s lovers had ever had matching hair or eye color.

“I had hoped that in time you would learn to harden your heart,” his mother continued. “Unfortunately there is no more time.” She paused. “If you were to find a place in the greater world no one would come after you.”

“You mean leave for good?” Waldo said shocked. “Never come home again?”

“If the only choices are exile or death which do you prefer?”

“'If I can't come home again there's no point to any of it. I'll try no matter what the odds are. I’ll find a way to pass this test and return home. I’ll make you proud of me mother, and I’ll make the council acknowledge me.”

He really is like his father. Lilith thought fondly. She felt an ache in her chest and forced herself to ignore it. “If that is your choice then so be it.”

His mother surprised him then by placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Whatever happens I am already proud of you.”


	2. Setting Out

Chapter 2

Waldo was in his room getting ready. 

It was tradition that he would have one last meal and then leave in the morning. He would not be permitted to take any coins or precious metals. Waldo would have to travel alone by foot, without any slaves or undead. From the moment he stepped outside the castle gate he was expected to rely on his own strength.

Whether he went north or south it would take about two weeks to reach the border. Though he would be alone and without money he would have no problems until he left Alteroth. The peasants would give him food and shelter. No one would dare refuse anyone who wore the black robes. Once he was on foreign soil he really would be completely on his own.

Come the morning he would be given a couple waterskins as well as a week’s worth of travel food. Waldo had a backpack where he would carry spare clothes as well as some other items. These were spread out over his bed, and he was going over each of them.

 

First and foremost was his spellbook. Inside it was every spell and ward he had ever been taught. (Including the ones he had never managed to get right.) The basic ones, that he used constantly had long since been memorized, he could perform without a second thought. The more powerful and complicated magics he would need to study and memorize first. Along with his spells and wards were the recipes for brewing all sorts of potions and remedies. Unlike casting spells Waldo was skilled at making potions. As he walked through Alteroth he planned to spend as much time as possible going over the binding ritual and studying offensive spells. Getting the binding ritual down was of particular importance; it was the only way he could force monsters top obey him.

It was clear to him the order he would need to attempt things. He could not even think about acquiring a dragon’s egg yet. Fighting a knight with his current abilities was akin to suicide. He would have to start by acquiring monsters and making them do his fighting for him. That would be extremely dangerous as well, but it offered Waldo his only real hope.

Next to his spellbook was his wand.

Like all Dark Mages his had been carved from human bone. He tapped it with a couple fingers and frowned. A wand was supposed to magnify the effects of its user’s spells. The way a hammer multiplied the force of a blacksmith’s blow. It was the most basic tool used by mages. One of the many things that had frustrated Waldo over the years was the fact he’d never gotten much use from his wands.

Oh he could use them; the problem was there was never a real difference in the spell’s effect. When his mother used her wand the spell was usually two or three times more powerful. When he used one it always remained the same. This wand was his fifth. He’d asked for new ones in the hope that would help; but the results never changed. 

There were small cloth sacks, each bound up tight and with a description written in ink. Ginger, mandrake, basalt, sulfur, chalk, ground obsidian, and a dozen other spell components. There were six knives. The largest was a foot long sharpened steel and could almost be called a short sword. The rest were slim blades that could easily be hidden. For a magic user daggers were a weapon of last resort. If he was in a situation where he had to try and use a one he was very likely going to die.

Next were the maps.

Alteroth was a large nation and nine countries touched its borders. To the north were three kingdoms. From west to east they were Wylef, Lothas, and Dregal. To the east was Abura and to the southeast Dacia. To the south, running from east to west were Rutenia, Galisia, and the Barony of Lemur. On the western border, between Wylef and Lemur, was Viscaya. 

Within Alteroth, the nations of Wylef, Lothas, and Dregal were collectively known as the northern kingdoms. The ruling families of all three were related to each other and had firm control over their lands. All three kingdoms held an ancient feudal tradition, going back almost to the time of the Shattering. Knights and armed men swore fealty to local lords, who in turn were sworn to serve their King or Queen. There was no slavery to the north, but only nobles could own land. The peasants who worked the fields were allowed to keep a share of what they produced and did enjoy certain rights, but were forced to rely on their liege lords for protection and enforcement of the law.

The northern kingdoms were blessed with fertile soil and plenty of water. There were thick forests, marshes, abundant farmlands, and thriving towns and cities. Lothas also had vast iron deposits and forged large quantities or iron and much smaller amounts of steel. They were rich lands and Alteroth had a profitable trading relationship with all three. Though the growing influence of the whites was stirring up trouble, especially in Dregal where the king was weak and easily influenced.

Abura and Darcia were also feudal kingdoms, but there the ruling families were not as well established. They often struggled to enforce their rule over their nobles. Some of the local lords barely acknowledged any sort of fealty to the crown. They tried to rule over their lands autonomously and often did not bother to send any taxes to the capital. Dacia had only just recently come out of a long civil war that had seen the old ruling family exterminated, and a new one installed. There especially the new king had to be very cautious as to how much he demanded of some of his retainers.

The lands to the south were arid and mountainous outside of a few running rivers. The border area touching Alteroth was an arid waste called the Barrens that was especially unforgiving. The Barony of Lemur was ruled by Baron Artimus Fabri and his house. The Fabri were the only nobles in Lemur, they’d exterminated all the others generations ago. The baron saw the country as being his own personal property and used his extended family to rule over it and drain every last bit of money out of it. Every tax collector was a Fabri and every Fabri was a tax collector.

Galisia was the poorest of all the lands that bordered Alteroth. Its territory was mountainous and dry with the people living in scattered villages scratching out an existence with sheep and goat herding and a little subsistence farming. The country had no one ruler, each individual village or settlement was cut off from the others by the rugged terrain; all authority was local. The land was overrun by goblin and orc tribes who raided each other and the humans. It was perhaps the poorest and most wretched spot in the world.

Rutenia also had many goblins, orcs, and other monsters. The land south of the Barrens was a bit more hospitable with hills and lowlands in place of mountains. Here various clans held power over stretches of territory. Loyalty was to the family or clan and battles were always personal. In Rutenia feuds and vendettas could last for generations and even the most minor slight could be cause for bloodshed.

Viscaya was a mageocracy where mages held political power. Unlike in Alteroth the magic users there were independents and they were not concentrated into certain families. Anyone who could use magic could rise to power there, no matter where they had been born. They held to the radical concept of ‘democracy’ and actually chose their leader, or Chancellor, through yearly votes. In Alteroth, and most other countries, this was seen as one step above anarchy. (They at least had enough sense not to allow non-magic users any say in their government.)

The Dark Mages viewed Viscaya with a mix of admiration and contempt. On the one hand they despised the ridiculous concepts their government was based on. The way the mages willingly shared power with each other. Their utter lack of respect for family and proper blood. On the other hand, there were many archmages there who were every bit as skilled as the ones here. Despite the inherent frailties of their system their country was well run and thriving. Economically they had a booming trade in potions and other magical goods, and unlike their counterparts in Alteroth, their mages could travel almost anywhere without drawing suspicion and hostility. 

Where to go was the first decision Waldo had to make.

It was funny, even though he’d been preparing for this his entire life he had never thought about the specifics. There were advantages and disadvantages to whatever choice he made. In many ways going to Viscaya would be the easiest path, it was one of the few places where Dark Mages were welcomed. He would be in the least amount of danger there. The drawback was that the laws there were strictly enforced. In Viscaya foreign mages were not allowed to use magic without a written permit. Such permits were difficult to acquire and Viscayans were very serious about not allowing outsiders to use magic within their borders. So while he would be relatively safe he would not be able to do much to advance his quest without risking arrest and imprisonment. In any case Corpselovers did not favor the easiest path, that was a Poisondagger trait.

The northern kingdoms were rich and not so strident about the use of magic. There were wild goblins that he could try to capture. The problem with going north was the fact there were knights and the occasional White Mage infesting the countryside. Despite trading with each other Dark Mages were feared and hated. Anyone with black robes might suddenly be attacked, as his brother Roland had apparently discovered. 

Abura and Darcia had the same issues, while being poorer and more dangerous.

By contrast in Lemur, the knights were little more than armed tax collectors. All the southern lands were poor, with more monsters running free. Lemur made a lot of coin by selling slaves to Alteroth, and the local authorities would likely look the other way at anything he wanted to do there. In Rutenia and Galisia people only worried about themselves and were not about to try and fight a Dark Mage unless they had to. In any of the lands to the south he would be at liberty to try and capture as many monsters as he could. Capturing an orc or goblin was dangerous, but not as dangerous as facing a knight. His chances of survival were a lot higher facing goblins or orcs. Weak monsters would normally run away in terror if they were faced with a great show of magic.

Thinking of his skills Waldo sighed. I wonder if they would be impressed if I healed a cut in front of them. Facing any enemy was going to be risky for him, but it was better to deal with some half civilized monsters than a northern knight. With luck he could capture and make a contract with three or more of them and that would be one task completed.

He had individual maps for all nine nations. He picked up the one for Galisia. It was commonly accepted that candidates who felt confident in their power or really wanted to impress went north on their First Quests. Those who were less certain or less ambitious usually went south. All of his brothers and sisters had travelled north.

I think my best option, Waldo thought. Is to go south and try and contract some monsters. It’s dangerous, but less dangerous that trying to handle a knight on my own. I need three, but I can always get more than that. If I have ten or twenty goblins and orcs in my service I can have them fight for me.

That was how Walter had dealt with enemies; by summoning his monsters to fight for him. There were two ways to get monsters to fight for you. One was to summon them and one was to have them bound to you by a contract, making them a familiar. Depending on a summons was dangerous, because you could only control one monster at a time. Exercising control also meant forgoing any other magical spells. If you tried casting another spell, or even lost your concentration, the summoned monster would regain its free will and was likely to attack you. A summons could be sent back with nothing more than a word of negation, but that still meant your weapon was gone. Each summons required a summoning circle with a specific inscription. Even Walter, who had a gift, could not control more than one monster at a time.

The other way was to use monsters you had already made a contract with. There was no limit to how many monsters you could have under contract. The advantages with using familiars were that they were permanently bound to your will. They could be summoned instantly without a circle; it only required a single ignition word. They were bound to obey their master’s every command. They could not lie or inflict harm on their master, even when they hated him.

Making the contract could be done against the monster’s will. All that was required was physical contact between master and servant as the binding spell was cast. The servants kept their free will and often openly hated their masters; but they were bound regardless. This could lead to trouble if a master was careless and did not specifically prohibit certain actions like theft or sharing secrets. A servant bound by a contract could not lie or in any way directly injure a master. They could still find many subtle ways to cause harm indirectly.

Interestingly contracts could not be made between members of the same race, so it was impossible to make a human a familiar. You could also not make a contract with the undead. Contracts could only be made with living beings of other races. Once a monster was contracted to you, you were also responsible for feeding and providing for it just as you were with slaves.

Waldo knew he would have to overpower and capture the first orc or goblin and then force a contract on it. After that he would have a servant to do his fighting for him and things would be much simpler. Waldo was nervous at the prospect of that first run in. Maybe he could set up a trap where it would be caught by some hidden wards set up beforehand. That was likely his best option.

Galisia would be the best place to start his quest, once he had enough monsters under his control he would have to travel to Lemur and seek out a knight. After that… well he no idea where to go after that. One step at a time, he thought. This will be more than hard enough.

Waldo was carefully studying the maps; he would need to have plenty of water with him while he crossed the Barrens. It would not be out of the realm of possibility he would be attacked there. He was going over the different scenarios in his mind when he heard a soft rap at his door.

Waldo knew immediately who it had to be.

His brother was not stupid enough to announce himself. His mother never came to his room. A slave would knock once and announce himself. The undead never knocked; they weren’t very big on courtesy. 

“Come in Enver.”

The door to his room opened and slowly swung wide. There in the doorway was a rail thin man barely five feet tall who might have weighed ninety pounds. You could make out the lines of his skull beneath the slightly yellow skin. His fingers were long and bony thin and his wrists looked they would break off if shaken hard. He had short, neatly cropped black hair and was dressed in a tailored made suit with a vest and long coat draped around his thin shoulders.

His eyes were his most interesting feature; blood red and slitted. Two long canine fangs dominated his mouth and made him appear just a bit more menacing. Despite eyes and fangs he did not really look all that dangerous. He actually looked rather frail.

Waldo knew better. Except for his mother, Enver was the most dangerous person who lived here.

Enver cast his eyes down on the bare stone floor. There were no markings there to seen.

“It always amazes me how many protective wards and trap spells you have in your room.” Enver said in that slightly superior mocking tone he always used. Being a powerful monster he could sense the magic, though all the runes and inscriptions were inverted and hidden from view.

“Do you think I’d be able to sleep at night without them? I swear zombies have short term memory loss. Walter keeps trying to sneak in here; I keep finding him held in place.”

Enver gave a slight shrug. “You should have destroyed him long ago.” The condescension was just a little more blatant. “It’s hard to believe you are her son. Why she let such a weak, defective creature as you live past childhood is a mystery to me.”

“Did you come here for something or did you just want to get in a few more insults before I leave?”

Enver’s head shook in mock disappointment. “No need to be hostile, have I ever harmed you?”

“You threatened to kill me all the time when I was growing up.” Waldo said coldly.

“Well I am a vampire,” Enver said. “You looked like such a tasty treat when you were little.” His lips peeled back in a ghoulish grin. “Truth to tell, I would still like to have some of your blood.”

“If you ever tried that I would kill you.” Waldo said and meant it. He felt sympathy for the slaves and even for Walter and the monsters his mother had contracted. Enver was different. The vampire had tormented him constantly until he took on the robes, and he had done it just for his own amusement.

“I have never actually harmed you.” Enver reminded him. 

“Only because my mother gave you a direct order to never touch any of her children.”

Enver nodded. “More is the pity. It’s so boring only being able to torment the slaves.”

“What do you want? If you’re just here to annoy me then get out. I have a lot of things to do.”

“You will be leaving in the morning, so I will not see you off. I do hate how I am in the day time.”

“I can’t tell you how sad that makes me.” Waldo said dryly.

Enver looked at him with those inhuman eyes. Waldo could see the amusement there. Enver only took pleasure in the pain of others. 

“You know Waldo I want to help you survive your First Quest.” Reaching into a pocket he drew out a folded piece of paper. Knowing better than to step any further into the room he gave a flick of his bony wrist and tossed it across the floor to land near Waldo’s feet.

Waldo looked at the paper suspiciously and made no move to touch it. “What is it?”

“A gift.” Enver said with a bloodless smile. 

Waldo did not reach for it.

“You don’t trust me?” Enver asked.

“Why would I?”

Enver spread his hands. “I have no reason to hurt you, and I would gain nothing from your death.”

“Except a good laugh.” Waldo said.

Enver gave a slight shrug and did not deny it. “It would please me more to see you return. You have always been my favorite victim, and I do miss your tears and screams.”

Waldo’s eyes flickered to the wand lying on his bed. He’d never killed anyone, but he thought he could end Enver without any regret. When he was a child the vampire had often cornered him and threatened to rip out his throat and drink him dry. Waldo had been forced to watch favorite slaves be tortured and slowly killed. Enver would never try to quiet them. He enjoyed their cries and pleas for mercy as he tore into their flesh and greedily drank their blood. As they were being killed the slaves would always turn to him for mercy. Those pleas had always bothered Waldo more than the actual killings. Slaves were common and easy to replace.

The way they would look at him though, the way they would beg him for help… it had given him nightmares. He had gone to his mother and begged her to make Enver stop. His mother had been unhappy with him and told him to accept it. A Dark Mage could not be affected by his victims’ cries. Mother forbade Enver from harming or even touching him, but she didn’t care about psychological tortures. In her eyes it would only make him stronger.

Waldo eventually learned not to show any favor on the slaves. He learned not to care when they died in front of him, and Enver finally grew bored with that game. The vampire would then threaten to kill him and would make a point of bending iron bars or crushing stones in his bony little hands.

“I’ll kill you and drink every last drop of your sweet blood,” Enver would growl and approach him menacingly. The vampire wanted to hear screams and see Waldo shaking in terror.

Waldo had learned how to deal with him by that point. “Who are you trying to scare? You can’t touch me and we both know it.” Waldo would then walk past him, daring Enver to prove him wrong.

The vampire never did and it made him furious.

Waldo knew that if Enver were not bound by his mother’s command the vampire would tear his throat out in an instant. The day his mother died all the contracts she had made would be broken and Enver would be free. On that day (if they were both still alive of course) one of them would die. Waldo knew and accepted that. If Enver turned out to be the first person he ever killed Waldo would be very happy.

“So you want me to live so you can kill me yourself one day?” Waldo asked.

“Exactly,” Enver smiled. “I’ve dreamed of tearing out your throat for so long I would simply hate to be denied that pleasure.”

Waldo knew that was true and, oddly enough, it did give Enver a reason to want to help. Reaching down he slowly and carefully unfolded the paper. He soon saw that it was a map of Lothas with a path marked on it and three distinctive X’s.

“What is this? A treasure map?”

“In a sense,” Enver said. “If you follow that it will lead you to three Great Monsters.”

“Great Monsters?” Waldo said disbelieving. There were ten monster races that were classified as Great Monsters due to their superior power. They were; Dragons, Vampires, Giants, Ogres, Werewolves, Trolls, Succubi, Griffons, Medusas, and Elementals. Capturing a Great Monster and making a contract with one was a challenge even for an experienced Dark Mage like his mother. For a novice to capture one, let alone three…

Waldo tossed the paper aside.

“You must think me a complete idiot.” Waldo said coldly. “Either the map is a fake or you really are trying to get me killed.”

“Not at all,” Enver said. “You cannot return until you have made a contract with at least three monsters correct? These three will be of far greater use to you than some lazy goblins would be.”

“My mother told you about that?”

“Why are you surprised?” Enver asked. “She always shares everything with me. I am her trusted confidante.”

“You’re her familiar.” Waldo reminded him.

Enver gave a careless shrug. “Six of one, half a dozen of the other. The point is that once I learned of that I drew up this map for your benefit. If you can capture these three creatures they will be a major help to you on your quest. Who knows? You might actually survive, though it is unlikely.”

“Just overpowering some goblins or orcs is going to be hard enough. You expect me to take on dragons and vampires?”

Enver’s lips quirked and twisted in a silent laugh. “Oh, I think you might manage with these monsters.” 

Waldo knew that tone much too well. It was the one Enver always preferred before performing some particularly cruel jest. “Just what are you up to?”

“I am simply trying to help you survive in the hopes of eventually making a meal of you and hearing those delightful screams one last time.” He turned back to the door. “I have given you my help. You may accept it or not as you wish. I will not be seeing you off in the morning, so this will be goodbye. I wish you success and will hope for your return.” He flashed a cruel and mocking smile. “Though I won’t expect it, even if you do follow my advice.”

Enver left closing the door behind him. 

The vampire’s visit had completely ruined his mood. He didn’t need a reminder that this quest was nearly impossible. Picking up the maps of the southern lands he went through the motions of trying to select which one he should visit first.

All the while he kept glancing at the paper lying there on the floor.

Enver really didn’t have any reason to want him to die, and it was all too likely to happen without any outside help. Waldo did not trust him and would not believe him even if the vampire told him blood was salty. The crazy story of finding three Great Monsters was surely just one more of Enver’s little jokes.

Waldo did finally pick it up and look at it again. More out of curiosity than anything else. Lothas was the richest of the northern kingdoms, and also the one most infested with knights and White Mages.

“Maybe he really does want to get me killed.” Waldo muttered to himself. “He just wants me to go there on some pointless chase.”

Contemptuously he crumpled up the treasure map and tossed it in the trash. He went back to the southern maps and studied them more seriously as he packed for his journey.

XXX

Waldo got no sleep that night.

His backpack was ready except for the waterskins and travel rations. His spellbook was in there, while his wand would be in one of the many deep pockets sewn into his robes. It would be hidden but always in reach.

He had finally decided to go south to Galisia. It was the poorest land bordering Alteroth, but also the most disorganized and chaotic. He would stay there just long enough to make contracts with ten to twenty weak monsters. It would not be much but it would be the most he could hope for. (His capturing even one Great Monster, never mind three, was ridiculous.) With that done he would move on to trying to defeat a knight. If he managed that much he would then try to figure out what would come next.

When Waldo really stopped to think about it, the requirements of his First Quest did seem impossible. Rationally, no one would ever expect a young, inexperienced, mage to have any hope of acquiring a dragon’s egg. Capturing any three monsters would be a great accomplishment. Defeating a knight an even greater one. For someone lacking combat magic those feats were already nearing unbelievable. Dragons were the fiercest and most terrible of all monsters. Their lairs were always well hidden and far from human civilization. Just discovering one would be and immense challenge. Sneaking into one undiscovered? Stealing an egg? Escaping with one alive? When Waldo tried to imagine the odds against it the number he came up with had a depressing number of zeroes.

He was not stupid. The council was not testing him, this was a death sentence, or perhaps they thought it was banishment. No matter what the odds were Waldo was determined to either succeed or die.

Since he just couldn’t sleep he spent a lot of the early morning hours just staring out his window. Like every night the world was complete blackness; from the skies above to the city below no flicker of light marred the perfect dark. The only light was from the ever churning volcanoes and the slow moving rivers of magma of the Forge. They were many miles away but were clear through the pitch black.

Waldo just stood there for hours gazing at the rivers of fire shining through the dark. It was just so beautiful.

XXX

When the skies began to shift from utter darkness to the tiniest hint of grey Waldo knew the time had come. He would have a last meal with his family, gather his food and water and then set out on foot. The idea of leaving not just the castle but everything he knew and journeying out into the unknown scared him. Down deep he was afraid that he was as weak and useless as most had always thought. For all his brave words he knew he would probably never make it back. Death was not something to be feared, but simply accepted. Waldo knew it was a failing that he could not think of his own death without a cold knot in his stomach.

Had the others been afraid to die?

Oh, the slaves always begged and screamed; but they were only slaves. Waldo was thinking of his siblings; those brothers and sisters who had sat at the table with him. The ones he had always been compared to, and to whom he’d always been found wanting. Had any of them ever been scared like this? He doubted it.

They’d all been so strong and sure of themselves. Each one had fought to be heir and had been true Dark Mages. He didn’t think any of them could have ever been afraid.

Along with the fear there was something else. In his life he had stepped outside the castle walls on only a handful of occasions. What he knew of the Shattered Lands he’d mainly read in books or heard about from his mother or siblings or from a tutor. Now he was going to go and see it for himself. The idea of exploring and facing dangers was exciting. For the first time in his life he was going to be on his own. While he loved his mother the thought of being beyond her reach had a powerful appeal. Whatever happened from today on would be a result of his choices. It was a thrilling thought. Excitement and terror warred inside his heart.

Before heading down to breakfast there was one more thing he needed to do first.

XXX

“Sister, will you come and talk to me?”

He waited as the colors swirled and Gwen took form.

His sister appeared before him; throat slashed and skin stark white. She was looking at him with just a hint of amusement. “Hello little brother,” she said in her gasping voice. “Have you come to say farewell?”

Waldo nodded. “I’m leaving on my First Quest today. I didn’t want to go without saying goodbye to you.”

Gwen gave a slight nod. “I will miss you until your return.”

“You sound very sure I’ll come back. No one else seems to.” Not even me, he thought.

Gwen gave him a knowing smile. “Not even you.” She gave a rasping laugh. “I have told you, one day you will lead the family. Trust your big sister.”

Waldo looked at her longingly; he wanted any kind of hope. “Will I do well in Galisia?”

Gwen slowly shook her head from side to side. “You are not going to Galisia.”

“Yes I am.” Waldo said. “I’m surprised you wouldn’t know that.” Maybe she couldn’t see everything that was going to happen. That was not a comforting thought.

She shook her head again and spoke with rigid certainty. “You will not travel to Galisia or Lemur or Rutenia. If you go south you will die. If you go to Viscaya or Abura or Dacia you will die. If you go to Wylef you will die. If you go to Dregal you will die.”

Waldo felt the ice in his stomach start to crawl up his spine. She had named off eight of the nine places he could travel to and announced they were death sentences. 

“Are you saying I have to go to Lothas? Isn’t it the most dangerous of the northern kingdoms?”

She made no reply. She simply stared back at him.

Thinking of going to Lothas something immediately occurred to him. “Wait! Are you saying Enver was being serious last night? Are you telling me I should actually follow his treasure map?”

“Listen to me very carefully now brother,” Gwen said in a somber voice.

Waldo gave a nod and paid her his full attention. When Gwen asked for him to take note it was always something important.

Gwen spoke in a rhythmic voice.

“Moon rises and sun sets, day turns to night and summer to winter. Five winters shall pass before you shall return. Long will your journey be and difficult your challenges. Three shall follow you; claws, horns, and fangs devoted to your service. They will journey with you to the forgotten keep, where you shall find your treasure. Your return shall be glorious, but turn to ash in a moon’s turn. When brother, sister, and mother are gone your time will have come. What is broken you will make whole. You will heal the land with fire and with steel.”

When his sister finished Waldo just stood there staring back at her. Obviously this was another one of her prophesies, but he really wasn’t sure what to make of it. A lot of it made no sense to him. Her words did seem to suggest that he would return in five years’ time. He also took special note of, ‘three shall follow you.’

“Are you telling me I should follow Enver’s advice then? You’re saying he was actually serious last night?”

Gwendolyn tilted her head to the side and blood spurted from her wound. “I have given you my help. You may accept it or not as you wish.”

Those had been Enver’s exact words. She really was telling him to follow the map Enver had given him.

“If you want me to follow Enver’s advice why don’t you just say so?” Waldo asked. “Why does all your advice have to come in riddles? Why can’t you just tell me what is going to happen to me?”

“I am dead little brother,” Gwen reminded him. “You have to grant me a little bit of fun.”

“I’m glad I amuse you.” Waldo said dryly.

“You always have,” Gwen responded with a rasping laugh.

Waldo shook his head. “Thank you for helping me sister. You have always been very kind to me.”

“If you are going to insult me I am leaving.” Gwen scolded. 

As her form began to dissolve she looked at her brother with real affection. “I will not say goodbye to you little brother. We will meet again. Whatever happens, no matter how hard, do not give into despair. Remember that you will return home again.”

His sister was gone and the mirror once more was empty.

“Thank you sister.” 

Waldo hurried back to his room to recover the treasure map he had thrown away.

XXX

Enver’s map was taken out of the trash, neatly folded, and slipped into a pocket. Waldo would study it later. His plans from last night were now tossed aside, but all that really meant was that he would take the north road out of Alter rather than the south.

Hurrying along a hallway Waldo came to a halt and glanced towards a partially opened door to his right.

“Really?” Waldo said wearily. “Do you still want to play this stupid game, even today?”

The door flung open and Walter rushed out.

“Repulso!” Waldo waved a hand.

Walter had not made it more than two steps before magical forces slammed him into the wall and pinned him there.

“Damn you!” The zombie cursed. “Why can’t I kill you?”

Because I can always sense you. Waldo thought but did not say. He’d always had the ability to sense monsters and the undead. It was a rare talent that sometimes ran in his family. Waldo had told his mother but no one else about it.

“I’ve told you before,” Waldo said. “No matter how well you hide there’s no way to disguise that stink.”

Though helpless Walter stared back with such hatred. “It’s your fault, all of this is your fault! When you’re dead I’ll be heir again, and I’ll have everything that should be mine!”

Waldo wanted to laugh at the sheer stupidity of it. “Yes, yes, I’ve heard this before. It’s all my doing.”

“You took my place!” Walter howled. “Of course it’s your doing!”

Waldo was sick of being the target of his brother’s hate. Sick of the idiocy and the mindless stupidity. Since this was the last time he would be seeing Walter until his (hoped for) return he decided to go ahead and say a few things.

“The reason I took your place is because you’re dead.” Waldo said. “The dead cannot rule the living. You know that!”

“If you were gone she would have to make me heir! There is no one else!”

“Wrong!” Waldo snapped shaking a finger at him. “There are the other branches of the family. Mother would choose one of them.”

“No she wouldn’t!” Walter denied. “She would choose me! I’m her son! She would never pick some cousin or uncle or nephew she hardly knows!”

Waldo shook his head. “Whoever leads the family must be able to make contracts, perform the greater magics, and provide an heir. A zombie can’t do any of those things. Even if mother did choose you the council would never allow the choice to stand. Your chances to be heir ended the day grandfather killed you! I never had anything to do with it! Mother only put me on her right because she had to. I didn’t do anything to replace you, and even if you killed me it wouldn’t change anything for you.”

“Liar!” Walter hissed and thrashed about trying to somehow free himself. “You were always just like the rest! Always plotting to destroy me and take what should be mine! I know it was you! I know it! I know it! I know it!”

Watching the pointless display of fury only made Waldo sad. He had never liked his brother back when he was alive. Walter had been a bully and never cared for anyone but himself. Walter had sought out power for the sake of his ambitions to lead the family one day. Waldo had respected him for his ability and his strength if for nothing else. Now that Walter had been stripped of all that all that was left was hate. Waldo could see that his brother needed to blame him. He had nothing else.

“You’re pathetic,” Waldo said and left with him still pinned. “Goodbye brother.”

Walter screamed after him but Waldo didn’t bother to listen.

XXX

As was tradition Waldo had a big breakfast before setting out. His mother said very little and did not ask him what his plans were. Waldo could remember her acting the same whenever the others went out. 

The kitchen slaves brought him two full waterskins and a pack filled with jerky, nuts, dried bread, and other travel food. The slaves spoke well wishes and hoped for his safe return while keeping their eyes lowered.

When the meal was finally finished he put on his backpack and waterskins and proceeded out of the castle proper, through the courtyard, and towards the main gate. His back was bending forward just a bit under the weight. Having to travel so many miles on foot toting everything on his back was going to be wearying.

The morning sky was a barely visible ash grey. His mother was the only one to accompany him. When his brothers and sisters were still alive they would come and see whoever was leaving. Since Gwen and Walter could not join them for obvious reasons, it was just him and his mother. He wondered what it was like for her to be sending the last of her children off on a First Quest. It had to be hard, especially given the circumstances.

Whatever she was feeling his mother gave no sign; her face was rigidly set and her demeanor utterly calm. She was certainly not behaving like this might be the last time she ever saw him.

“I will definitely come back,” Waldo said as they came to the opened gate.

The wooden drawbridge was down over the dry moat with its rusting iron spikes. Beyond was a rutted dirt road that led down to the city of Alter. From there he would follow the north road and begin his journey.

Now that the moment had really come Waldo felt really scared. He looked back at the dreary castle and the undead shuffling along the battlements. He looked out at the volcanoes in the distance spewing ash into the sky and bleeding lava into the rivers of fire. The morning breeze was heavy with the stench of sulfur. How he would miss this place!

His mother looked at him and there was a miniature smile beneath solemn eyes. “I am sure you will,” she agreed.

Reaching into her cloak she produced a leather sack that jingled in her hands.

“Take this; it is a hundred gold coins. I made sure they are all foreign mint, you will only find ducats and denari; no gold skulls. It’s all I can do for you.”

Waldo was completely surprised. “Isn’t this against the rules for a First Quest?” Waldo asked.

His mother’s smile widened a bit. “Oh it’s completely against the rules, but then so is setting impossible conditions. Now go ahead and take it.”

“The whole point of the first quest is to prove yourself as a Dark Mage. You’re not supposed to take anything with you beyond the necessities.”

“That’s how it normally goes,” Lilith agreed. “But if the council is going to bend the rules I am too.”

“Did you ever give any of the others money when they went out?”

“No,” Lilith admitted. “But they all went on normal quests.”

Waldo looked closely at the purse his mother was holding. Not having to worry about acquiring gold would make things easier.

He shook his head. “I can’t take this.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s against the rules and I want to face this the way I am supposed to, the way the others did.”

“The others went on normal First Quests,” Lilith reminded him. “For them it was a fair test of their abilities and their courage so I didn’t give them any extra help. Your situation is completely different.”

Waldo again shook his head. “I want to do this the right way so that when I return you can know I succeeded on my own and be proud of me.”

His mother blinked, it was very rare for her to be taken completely by surprise. “You really mean that? You honestly don’t want this gold?”

“I mean it,” Waldo said.

His mother stood there a moment, still holding the leather purse. “You are very brave my son.”

“Thank you mother.”

“You are an idiot, but a brave idiot.”

She grabbed him by a shoulder and roughly turned him around. He could feel her tugging and opening up his back pack.

“Mother what are you doing?”

“What else? I’m putting the gold in your pack.”

“But I said I didn’t want it!”

“I heard you, why do you think I called you an idiot?”

He opened his mouth to try and argue but his mother cut him off.

“What did I always teach you about following rules?”

Waldo sighed. “That rules only matter when you know you’ll get caught.”

“Exactly,” his mother said. “Results are all that count my son. Just succeed and come home, that is all I care about. We are Corpselovers; we are bound by no laws.”

“Not even the ones made by the council?” Waldo asked.

Finished Lilith tied shut his backpack. “We have to follow their dictates of course, at least as far as they can catch us.” She turned to face her son. “You don’t ever need to worry about what I think of you. I am only sorry I cannot do more.”

“It’s okay mother. It makes me happy just to know you’d break the laws to help me.”

“Well of course I would,” his mother said and placed an affectionate hand on his cheek. “After all you are my son, and more important to me than the council or anything else.”

Waldo blushed and a simple happiness filled his heart and pushed away all the fear that had been there just moments before. His mother had never really shown him a lot of warmth growing up. “Thank you mother.”

She gave a single nod and withdrew her hand as though afraid she’d already shown him too much kindness. “I will pray the Dark Powers to watch over you and see you safely home. I will offer a hundred sacrifices.”

“Ah, I would be grateful for the prayers, but please don’t make any sacrifices for my sake.” Waldo said. “I have never liked having people die because of me, even if they are only slaves.”

Lilith gave an amused shake of her head. “You have always been a bit strange my son, but if that is your wish I will honor it.”

“Thank you. Goodbye mother. I will come home again.”

“Goodbye my son. I will wait for your return no matter how long it may be.”

Taking a deep breath Waldo took a step out onto the drawbridge and began his journey.


End file.
